Saturday, July 28, 2007

Meanwhile, Back on The Beach,

We returned to the Beach after unloading the S.S.Pickett and were assigned to an area of our Battalion's jurisdiction, told to dig foxholes
in the soft sand and chow down because rampant rumours of
German paratroopers had been dropped behind our advancing
Infantry and were heading for the Beach.
Dug our foxholes,skipped chow and found ourselves facing inland
till daybreak, Carbines at the ready, with our backs to the Channel.
Come morning,we were glad to board DUKWs and head out to bring in supplies from another ship in very rough waters.
When we returned to the shore, my foxhole became a haven away from all the tumult. I went right to sleep.
The paratroopers never materialized
probably because of all the Armor that came ashore that day.
That night we were shelled or bombed by aircraft-I never found out.
What I did find out was that we lost 17 members of our Battalion
because they had dug their foxholes too deep and the sand caved in,
smothering them.Many had narrow escapes and had to be dug out.
We went out in the morning to work a shift, unloading gasoline
and found out about the casualties when the crew, who came to relieve
us, gave us the bad news.


Anonymous said...

Great presentation.

Bertha said...

Thanks for writing this.

Anonymous said...

foxholes - The reason why I went Navy.

Andrew said...

I spoke to two 519th port Battalion vets that were trapped by the sand in their foxholes after bomb blasts. One poor guy thought his legs were blown off until he realized they were just under the sand.